


When the Only Fights are Over Furniture

by this_is_alx



Series: Sterek Week June 23-29 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Furniture Shopping, M/M, Sterekweek, Stiles plays chauffeur, domestic!sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_alx/pseuds/this_is_alx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beacon Hills hasn't seen a supernatural incident in months. The only stresses in Derek's life are sharing a small apartment with Cora and Peter, the rebuilding of the Hale house, and the Camaro breaking down. Well, that and the annoying, amazing ball of energy that is his boyfriend, Stiles. </p>
<p>Or, the one in which Stiles plays chauffeur and they bicker over furniture. </p>
<p>This is my entry to day 1 of Sterek Week. The theme is domestic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Only Fights are Over Furniture

Derek looked up at the sound of Stiles' Jeep pulling up to the house. With a small nod to the head contractor, Derek gathered his things and made his way to the car. Stiles was already leaning precariously across the passenger seat to hold the door open for him.

 

“Hey, hun” Stiles said once Derek had thrown his bag in the back and climbed in.

 

Instantly, Derek’s eyebrows rose. “Hun?”

 

“Just trying it out,” Stiles said with a shrug. “It sounded weird as soon as I said.”

 

Before Derek could open his mouth to reply, a pair of soft lips were suddenly pressed against his own. Almost as soon as the kiss began, Stiles pulled back with a soft smile.

 

“What was that for?” Derek asked quietly, a sense of calm washing over him even with the loud construction noises going on outside the car.  

 

“I just really wanted to kiss you.”

 

With a final peck, Stiles returned to his seat and started backing the Jeep down the driveway.  The car ride was silent, something that Derek was grateful for after hours of working with the crew rebuilding the Hale house. Stiles always seemed to know when Derek was suffering from senses overload and just needed some quiet. It wasn’t until they were pulling up in front of the apartment complex where Derek, Peter and Cora had been living during  the construction that Stiles spoke.

 

“So when will the Camaro be out of the shop?” he asked.

 

“Why? You sick of playing chauffeur?

 

Stiles laughed softly. “Hey, as long as you aren’t bleeding out on my seats or slamming my head into steering wheels, my baby and I welcome you. I do miss the Camaro though and I’m pretty sure Erica’s going through withdrawal. She almost cried tears of joy when you started driving it again.  I’m so glad you got rid of the soccer mom car. It totally ruined the whole sexy, broody thing you’ve got going on. ”

 

“I keep telling you guys it wasn’t a soccer mom car,” Derek grumbled, “It was the only car that made sense for lugging around your lazy asses and all of your stuff”

 

“Soccer mom,” Stiles singsonged under his breath. He laughed when Derek swatted at him with the roll of paper in his hand. “What is that, anyway?” Stiles  asked, gesturing towards the paper. “Are those blueprint? Are we breaking into another bank?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes with a fond smile and unrolled the paper. “They’re for the house,” he explained. “Charlie gave them to me so that I can start picking out furniture.”

 

“Furniture? You’re picking out furniture? Shouldn’t you be giving that job to Lydia or Allison? Or really anyone that knows the meaning of the word ‘color’. Hell, even me and Scott could do it. Have you seen his bedroom? It’s like a freaking Pottery Barn ad whenever he bothers to clean and that’s at least 25% our decorating skills.”

 

Derek sighed at Stiles’ rambling and opened the car door to get out. “I’m a grown man, Stiles. I can handle picking out furniture.” With a final kiss goodbye, Derek grabbed his bags and exited the car.

 

“At least ask Cora to help! The last thing we need is the entire house looking like some kind of S&M dungeon!”

 

* * *

 

Things in Beacon Hills had been quiet for a while. There hadn’t been a near death experience in months which meant the entire pack was finally able to uphold normal sleeping schedules. So, when his phone went off at half past 3 in the morning, Derek panicked. His freakout doubled when he saw the call was from Stiles. He snatched up the phone from his bedside table.

 

“Are you hurt? What happened? Is someone hurt? Where are you?”

 

“Woah, woah, dude, calm down. I’m fine. Everyone is fine,” Stiles said, soothingly.

 

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek snapped instinctively. There was no real heat behind his words as his heart rate began to steady. “Why the hell are you calling me at 3 am?”

 

“No one’s hurt, but there is something very, very wrong,” Stiles said. Before Derek could ask, Stiles continued. “I’m looking at your Ikea wishlist right now.”

 

“My what?” Derek ran a hand over his face and reached over to flip on the light. Knowing Stiles, he wouldn’t be going back to sleep any time soon.

“Your Ikea wishlist. Well technically it’s your shopping list but if you think I’m actually letting you buy any of this crap, you’re delusional.”

 

“What the hell? Stiles,” Derek said, trying his absolute hardest not to hang up on Stiles. Somehow he knew his boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that too much. “It’s 3:43 in the actual freaking morning and you’re calling me about my Ikea shopping list. How the hell are you even on that? I made sure you wouldn’t be able to figure the password.” This was true. After Stiles had figured out Derek’s password (which was definitely not the day of his and Stiles’ first date) and sent ridiculously gushy, completely unDereklike e-mails to the entire pack, Derek opted to pick a random string of letters and numbers for all of his passwords. He kept them tucked safely in his sock drawers, somewhere that Stiles definitely hadn’t been in the few short hours since he actually created the Ikea account.

 

“Danny hacked it for me. Although I totally wouldn’t have been able to guess your password if that makes you feel better,” Stiles said with utter nonchalance.

 

“You got Danny to hack it? My Ikea account? What the hell is wrong with you, Stiles?”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with me! What’s wrong with you?” Stiles responded, indignantly. “I warned you not to try and turn the house into Derek’s Cave of Darkness and Gloom.”

 

“I did not-”

 

“Yes! Yes, you did! Literally every single piece of furniture on that list was black. No one needs black drapes to match their black leather couch, black leather bench, black tables, black lamps, black rugs…”

 

Derek sighed as Stiles continued listing the entirety of his shopping list. So, maybe he really did have a thing about black. Or really an inaptitude when it came to decorating.

 

“At least they’ll match,” Derek tried.

 

“Nope. Nopity nopity nope nope,” Stiles said. Derek could picture him shaking his head and flailing. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Start making coffee.”

 

“Stiles, its almost 4 o’clock in the morning. It’s way too dangerous for you to drive here by yourself.”

 

“Derek, please tell your boyfriend that’s its past his bedtime and some people are trying to sleep,” Derek heard Peter groan from his bedroom across the hall.  

 

“And if he shows up here this early I will castrate him, make a smoothie out his balls and make him drink it!” Cora yelled so that Stiles could hear her as well.

 

“Was that Cora? Did she just threaten me?” Stiles asked over the phone.

 

“It was very creative,” Derek said.

 

“Something she obviously didn’t learn from you.” At Derek’s indignant huff, Stiles added, “C’mon, dude. You’ve been using the same threat since sophomore year. Anyway, tell Grumpy Cat Jr. to go back to sleep. I’ll see you in a few hours. Night, Derek.”

 

“Morning, Stiles.”

 

* * *

 

“Morning, boo.”

 

Derek shot Stiles an unimpressed look at the pet name and held the door open for him to enter. Stiles smiled brightly in return and pecked him on the cheek as he passed. Reaching out to wrap his arms around Stiles’ waist, Derek pulled the younger boy to him.

 

“Hi,” he whispered against his lips.

 

Stiles’ smile grew even brighter. “Hello yourself,” he said softly before their lips connected. The kiss was short and sweet and the two pulled away to rest their foreheads together. With a final soft kiss, Stiles stepped away and closed the door a bit harder than necessary. He turned to Derek with a wicked grin. “That’s for Cora.”

 

“I heard that!” the girl in question yelled from her room.

 

“You were supposed to!” Stiles shouted back. He turned to Derek and held up a big paper bag that Derek hadn’t noticed he was holding. “I brought breakfast. There’s enough for grumpywolf and creeperwolf too. I’ll set us up on the couch and you make coffee?”

 

* * *

 

Derek growled as a cold pancake landed on his face. He speared it on a claw, pulled the offended food away from his face and gave Stiles his absolute best glare. Stiles, being Stiles, looked completely unfazed.

 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Stiles seethed. He gestured widely to the laptop that was propped precariously on his lap. He was sitting between Derek’s spread legs, leaning against his chest as Derek leaned against the armrest of the sofa. Derek gently grabbed onto Stiles’s flailing arms before they could hit him in the face or somewhere of even greater importance.

 

“It’s my credit card, Stiles,” Derek said. He tried to say it placatingly, he really did, but it came out a lot more exasperated than he intended.

 

Stiles stopped jerking around as soon as Derek’s arms came around him. Even when Derek was being a royal pain in the ass, Stiles would never fight his hold. Instead, he flopped back against his chest with an exasperated huff. “Stiles controls the computer. Not Derek, _Stiles_ ,” Stiles complained. “Which means Derek doesn’t get to just steal Stiles’ laptop and buy the most horrible, hideous thing ever!”

 

“It’s my laptop.”

 

“But it’s on my lap!”

 

“You’re the one that was looking at the curtains, Stiles. All I did was reach over and hit ‘Buy,’” Derek said.

 

Stiles glared down at the computer screen where ‘Purchase Confirmed’ was mocking him in bold letters. “I was kidding! I told you I was kidding and you kept clicking! Who actually buys red leather curtains?”

 

Derek shrugged, “You said I couldn’t have black. I like leather, it’s durable.”

 

Before Stiles could ask why the hell Derek would need durable _curtains_ , of all things, Cora came into the room.

 

“You guys have been bickering about curtains for the last twenty minutes. The house is in the middle of the forest, it’s not like anyone’s going to be looking in,” she said. Derek nudged Stiles’ leg as if to say, “See, I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Stiles gave Cora the same eye roll he’d given Derek.

 

“Did you eat all my breakfast?” Cora asked, eying the dirty dishes and mountain of mostly empty takeout containers that littered the coffee table.

 

“It’s in the fridge,” Stiles said. Cora gave them a sleepy smile and went to get her food. Stiles turned back to the open computer. “Alright, no more curtains. How about appliances?”

 

Derek shrugged and opted to turn his attention to peppering kisses down the column of Stiles’ throat. Stiles squirmed but remained resolutely focused on the task at hand. Pick furniture first, jump Derek’s bones later.

 

A few minutes and a couple impressive hickies later, Stiles let out a gleeful squeal. “That is so awesome!” he said excitedly. “Derek! Derek, look!” He reached behind him to wrap his fingers in Derek hair and pull him away from his neck. Stiles could have sworn he heard Derek whimper at the loss of contact and smiled to himself instead of saying anything.

 

“That is so ugly,” Derek said, feeling his own smile break out.

 

“It is not! That it art!” Stiles protested.

 

Derek looked at the stainless steel monster that Stiles was gushing over. It was ridiculously large with spouts, buttons and knobs protruding from every which way. Derek could picture Stiles trying to control it, flailing as each function turned on at once. He laughed outright at the image. His laughter stopped abruptly as a piece of french toast smacked onto his cheek, syrup and all.

 

“I’m buying it,” Stiles grumbled. “On your credit card.”

 

Derek didn’t bother to protest. Even with the cost of rebuilding his house, he had more than enough money left from the his family and the insurance payments. For years, he hadn’t spent it out of guilt, choosing instead to live on the bare minimum. Then Stiles came into his life and, slowly but surely, saved him from his guilt. Derek would spend every penny of his bank account if it meant Stiles’ happiness.

 

He settled back into the corner of the sofa and pulled Stiles’ tighter to his chest. “Buy whatever you want,” he whispered into Stiles ear before leaning down to press his lips to the place where Stiles’ neck and shoulder met.

 

Stiles turned a bit in his arms to smile up at him. “The house is gonna be perfect,” he said.

 

“Of course it will,” Derek said. He brought their lips together in a soft kiss. “So long as you’re in it.”

 

* * *

 

Hope you enjoyed! 

You can find me on tumblr [here](http://this-is-alx.tumblr.com/). 

You can find out more about Sterek Week [here](http://sterekweek.tumblr.com/)

 


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